Drastic Measures
by Alexandri
Summary: While on holiday, Draco takes a drastic measure to make his point. Originally written in 2006.


Title: Drastic Measures  
Pairing: Harry/Draco  
Rating: M  
Warning: Rimming, Balcony sex, Top!Draco, American setting, fluff  
Summary: While on holiday, Draco takes a drastic measure to make his point.  
Notes: Written for hp_loveletters.

Draco frowned at the patch of cold beside him. Groaning, he arched into a full body stretch, enjoying the luxurious slide of silk sheets against his sensitive skin even as he glowered inside. Harry knew how much he hated waking up alone, yet it was a rare, usually rainy morning when that wasn't the case. As Draco flung back the sheets and climbed out of bed, he wondered to just what drastic measure he was going to have to resort to get Harry to fully understand how serious he was about the matter. Anything was possible, even chaining the obtuse man to the headboard in the middle of the night. Anything that was but admitting that, deep down, he was afraid that one morning he would wake up and Harry would be gone for real and for good instead of in the shower or out for a run or out on the balcony as he was at the moment.

Draco leaned against the doorjamb, staring at his messy-haired lover. It was a grey, cool, New York morning and yet Harry stood in nothing more than a pair of low-slung sweatpants, arms folded on the balustrade, a picture of pensive contemplation. His disgruntlement faded to be replaced with vague concern and he sauntered up behind Harry. He slid his hands, still warm from bed, up Harry's spine, delighting in the shivers, and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. "Good morning," he rasped huskily, wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulders and letting them glide down to his waist.

"Morning," Harry answered quietly, leaning back into Draco's arms. "Sorry I wasn't in bed."

"You wouldn't have to apologize if you'd simply wait."

"I wouldn't get up if you weren't such a lay-about."

Draco bit back a grin. He may take his time getting up in the mornings, but early bird Harry was often sound asleep by ten-thirty. And that was late for him. "You could always wake me."

"And risk your petulant grumpiness?" Harry chuckled when Draco pinched his side. "I don't think so."

"I'm sure you can come up with a way to wake me that won't make me 'grumpy,'" Draco pointed out. "Or am I giving you too much credit?"

Laughing out loud, Harry turned in Draco's arms. He frowned as his gaze slid down his lover's body. "Draco!" he exclaimed. "We talked about this."

Draco sighed. "Yes, I know."

"You could get arrested."

"Why does this bother you so much?" he asked, trapping Harry against the banister and leaning close. He was pleased to hear Harry's breath catch.

"Because public nudity, no matter how beautiful, does not sit well with law enforcement."

"And what about you?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow, half-questioning, half-hopeful. "What about me?"

Draco ran his hands down Harry's chest before slipping them under the waistband of his infernal trousers and pushing them past his hips. "How well does it sit with _you_?" Draco asked as he pulled the trousers completely off.

Harry swallowed as Draco's eyes trailed lazily down his torso. "Somehow," he gasped, "I think whatever you have in mind will be just fine."

"Is that so?" Draco queried, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he grasped Harry's hips and turned him around. He pressed his cooling body against Harry's back, delighting in the resultant shiver and put Harry's hands on the thick, stone balustrade. "So it's all right if I shag you out here on the balcony before all of Fifth Avenue?"

Harry made a choked, gurgling sound as Draco nibbled the juncture of his shoulder and neck. "I…mm," he moaned when the blond began tracing a path down his spine with his tongue, "I don't think that's wise."

"We're in a penthouse suite, love," Draco murmured against Harry's skin, knowing it would drive the raven-haired boy to distraction. "And it is terribly early." He kissed the shallow dip at the base of Harry's spine. "Do you really think anyone will know?"

"It's just not on," Harry panted. "It's…the Muggle world is different than our world…oh!"

"I'm well aware of that." Draco leisurely ran his tongue over the plump curve of Harry's arse before biting down just hard enough for it to hurt. Harry jerked and cried out Draco's name. "I just don't care. If you won't stay in bed so I can shag you first thing, I'll just have to do it here."

"I don't think…" Harry began, clearly trying to maintain his train of thought. Draco cupped the cheeks of his arse and separated them, brushed a quick kiss over the tight, pink hole before swirling the tip of his tongue over it. "Ah!"

"Just remember," Draco whispered just loud enough for Harry to hear, "you brought this on yourself." He grinned as he eased the tip of his tongue into Harry's arse. He took his time, teasing the impatient, squirming Gryffindor. Really, Harry was always in such a hurry; he desperately needed to learn the pleasure of savoring the moment.

He ran his fingertips down Harry's thighs, caressing the backs of his knees. Harry tensed—the backs of his knees were so sensitive—and pushed back against Draco's mouth, silently demanding more. Draco gripped his hips. "Hold still," he commanded. He would not be rushed. Harry would not be getting rapid gratification.

Draco returned to his task, building his pace, drinking in Harry's groans. He lightly scored his nails over the firm flesh of Harry's thighs; the small flashes of pain inflaming Harry even more until he trembled beneath Draco's hands. The blond lost himself in the musky scent of Harry's body, the sweet whimpers, the warm, slick skin under his hands, the exotic taste on his tongue. He smirked at the sight of Harry's long, fit body glistening in the emerging dawn, back arched, head thrown back, arms taut as he clenched the railing.

"Draco, I'm so…now," he gasped, pushing back on Draco's tongue.

The blond pulled away and stood, his hands at his sides. Harry glanced frantically over his shoulder, green eyes practically glowing with lust and begging for Draco's touch. For a moment, Draco just stared at him, cataloging the sight of Harry silhouetted against a young, pink sky. Harry—wide-eyed and de-spectacled, the need and desire evident in every line of his body—was almost as gorgeous as Draco himself, and the blond couldn't help burying his long, slim-fingered hand in the tousled hair and kissing the parted, eager lips.

Harry sank into Draco's kiss, pulling him closer as he impatiently devoured the blond's mouth. Draco let him have his way, wrapping his free arm around Harry's waist and moving in time with his lover's writhing body. Swallowing the exquisite noises Harry was making, Draco caressed his hand down his lover's stomach and combed his fingers through the black curls around the base of Harry's erection. Harry shuddered as he gasped as leaned his forehead against Draco's. "I can't believe we're doing this out here," he whispered.

"We could have done this in our nice, warm bed but you insist upon getting up before I'm ready," Draco retorted. "Hands on the banister."

Miraculously, Harry did as he was told without fuss. Draco strolled back into their hotel room—ignoring Harry's sputters—grabbed his wand, and returned to the balcony. He cast a quick lubrication spell and tapped Harry's hip. Brushing a kiss on the edge of Harry's jaw, Draco grasped his own erection and gently eased into his lover.

"Yes," Harry moaned in a long, low hiss as he pushed back on Draco's shaft.

Draco settled into a rhythm sure to madden Harry—thrust in, ease out—no rush. God, he didn't want to rush. Harry was so...hot, so tight around him. Those delectable little noises he made in the back of his throat—so sexy—as he undulated in Draco's arms, wantonly urging him on. His stormy grey eyes fluttered shut as he buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck, drawing in the heady aroma of sex and pleasure. That lean, lithe body, slick with sweat—so right in his arms—and Draco's couldn't not run his hands over the slim torso, pinch the hard, tight nipples, curl his fingers around the long, throbbing cock.

Moaning as the pressure grew, fluttering in his stomach, Draco stroked Harry as he pounded into him. He stared at the rushed, grey people on the street-his nails digging into Harry's shoulder, "_yes_" dripping from Harry's lips over and over again like a mantra—and knew it wouldn't be long now.

Not long.

Not...

Not...

"_Draco_," the word ripped from Harry, his head thrown back as he coated the pale hand and his stomach and the stone balustrade with his come.

Long.

With a strangled scream, Draco unraveled in Harry. His knees gave out and they slid to the floor, their bodies parting on the way down. They sat for some time, one curled into the other and their breathing harsh, watching the still-groggy city stumble past through the stone spindles. Finally, Harry slumped back against Draco. "I'm cold."

Somehow, after several moments, Draco found the energy to move. He unfolded his body and stood. He held out his hand and pulled Harry to his feet before leading him back to the bedroom. With a small, private smile and a shake of his head, Draco sat on the bed, tugging a very cooperative Harry down on top of him. He tucked them both under the blankets, a possessive glow burning inside him when Harry wrapped around him, stealing his warmth. "You know," he mused softly as he rolled Harry onto his back. "I really do wonder why you insist on getting up before me. You always end up right where I wanted you in the first place."

Harry just grinned and pulled Draco to him.


End file.
